


thorns

by miowoda



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Lowercase, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 03:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16694473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miowoda/pseuds/miowoda
Summary: it's pitiful, really.roses are a thing of beauty, ritsu did like them, but whenever you touch one, the thorns dig into your fingertips, causing crimson to trickle down your hand.





	thorns

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS REALLY BAD I WROTE THIS WHEN SAD AND FINISHED IT WHEN I WAS SAD IM JUST POSTING IT BC I LOVE HANAHAKI SORRY

it's pitiful, really.

roses are a thing of beauty, ritsu did like them, but whenever you touch one, the thorns dig into your fingertips, causing crimson to trickle down your hand.

though... for ritsu, it wasn’t exactly that.   
thorns dug in his neck, his lungs, his mouth, and it    
  
he had to quickly excuse himself from the knight’s practice, feeling the vines tug and pull on his ribs, coughs threatening to spill out the secret he had managed to keep, for so long.   
“it hurts,” how could he ever say something like that?   
it’d be selfish of him, after all.   
blood as red as his eyes had spilled out of his hands, flowers in full bloom layering the inside of his throat, sticky and uncomfortable.   
it was so hard to breath.   
  
he didn’t want to die,   
but a life without love isn’t worth living, and he’d never want to lose these feelings for his precious maakun.    
collapsing before he had even made it to the bathroom, he had to accept the fact that this is where he was going to die.   
ah, it’s a shame. he won’t ever be able to sing again, to feel warmth, to hear the piano he plays. though, it’s nothing too bad. he’d rather die than lose his feelings.   
he never did tell anyone. he knew full well that they’d just tell him to get the surgery, or force him to. stories of that had happened, people waking up in a hospital bed, feelings gone, alongside the bloody summer inside of them.   
  
piercing ends of thorns dug into his throat, causing horrific pain, and though he couldn’t breath already, he had no choice but to sob.   
it was pitiful.   
blood and tears had stained his face, his hands, his shirt…   
footsteps.   
he stayed still.    
  
he wished he had done something.   
he’d asked mao multiple times if he loved him, and every time, it was always a yes. it just hurt him more, he 

it was a lie. if it was true, why would he have to swallow down marigolds and white lilacs?   
  
funnily enough, he had searched up the meanings of the flowers he had commonly brought up.   
red roses, true love.   
marigolds, pain and grief.   
white lilacs, youthful innocence.    
how sad.   
  
“ritchan?”    
it’s his beloved maakun.   
he didn’t trust himself to speak. his body was hurting so much he felt like if he moved an inch, it’d break in half.   
“narukami was looking for you. are you okay?”   
petals choked him, and a weak attempt of a cough came out.   
his head was on his knees, hands covering his mouth.   
  
he was cold.   
“ritsu?”

mao walked closer to him.   
“ritchan..? hello?”   
this isn’t good.    
he kind of wants to drop dead right now, and it scares him that he thinks that.   
maybe if he just dies now… he’d avoid this.   
he heard mao’s breath hitch.   
“ritsu! ritchan!?”   
he saw the blood. he saw the petals.   
a warm, hand patted his back.   
“why did you never tell me?”   
he sees black.   
  
fear.    
his lovely maakun found out about his hanahaki.   
he’s going to die, isn’t he?   
coughing up full bloomed flowers… it’s a sign of the final phases of hanahaki.   
  
he woke up.   
what?   
why is he awake? is he alive?   
it’s scary how hard it is to breath.   
  
maakun was with him.   
what..?   
“maa--”   
his words got cut off by the dryness in his throat, and he coughed quietly.   
no blood.   
“ritsu..!”   
“maakun?”   
mao looked down to the floor, upset.   
was he in the infirmary?   
“why did you never tell me?”   
“about what?”   
“ritchan.”   
“hmmmph....” ritsu stretched, sitting up. he was still in his bloody shirt, but it seems to be… dry? how long has it been? “i couldn’t have.”   
mao grit his teeth. “please don’t die,”   
“what?”   
mao was crying.   
  
It’s been two months since that event.    
The day where he was on the verge of dying.   
If Maakun hadn’t found him, he would have died. He would’ve never seen the next moon, the light of the sun, and the pretty stars.   
  
Mao loved him.   
And, he loved Mao.   
  
Red roses are still his favourite flowers.


End file.
